Reaver's Party
by Mellow Hale
Summary: An alternative series of events for the recruitment of the pompous, dashingly good looking Hero of Skill. Female Sparrow x Reaver.
1. The Deal

_**A/N: This is my first published piece of fanfiction, so please go gently on me!**_

_**I absolutely loved Reaver when I first saw him, and I was very disappointed that his role in the game was so short. I still have my hopes up that he will reappear in DLC. :)**_

_**Anyway, this is a Female Sparrow x Reaver fic, so if you don't like his pompous ass I highly advise you read something else. For the rest of you, enjoy!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fable 2.**_

_Chapter 1 : The Deal_

Everyone, who was anyone, had heard of Reaver's wild parties.

Even though the trek through Wraithmarsh had almost killed her and drove her insane, Sparrow had managed to make it through with only minor scaring and most of her sanity left intact. And of course, the first thing she heard about as she dragged her feet into Bloodstone, blood running down her injured sword arm from her shoulder to her fingertips, was Reaver's party. Oh how marvelous they were, his parties. Wild and fun, beautiful women and plenty of expensive booze. You would have the time of your life, they said, as long as you kept your hands away from his things. Don't do that, they warned. You might just lose your thieving little fingers.

Eventually, the young Heroine managed to find someone who was willing to help her _as well as_ talk to her about Reaver. A rather pretty looking whore named Poppy wrapped her arm up for her, rattling off about how Geoff was invited to Reaver's big bash tonight, and how she was _so_ jealous that she wasn't. If it wasn't for the fact that Sparrow needed Reaver to save the world, she would have turned herself right around and walked straight back to Bowerstone. What kind of Hero was this man? Parties and excessive drinking and…._orgies_? The thought of it all made her fume with resentment.

"My goodness doll, how in the world did ya manage to get yourself hurt like this?" Poppy murmured as she finished tying the bandage around Sparrow's upper arm. "I mean, I see a lot o' blood and gore 'round here, but this doesn' look like yer normal bar fight scuffle." Her deep blue eyes looked into Sparrow's bright ones, almost calming the silently seething young woman.

"I came from Wraithmarsh," Sparrow said quietly, letting her annoyance with this new task of Hero-fetching escape to the back of her mind, "and I ran out of potions and food about halfway here."

"Oh my!" Poppy exclaimed, putting one dainty hand up to her lips in surprise. "Most people jus' take a boat 'round Wraithmarsh…"

"It's a complicated situation," the Heroine murmured. Poppy gave her back her arm, and Sparrow rubbed it gently. It was throbbing terribly, and she knew she needed to find a potion shop around here if she was to survive the night. Those damned Banshee offspring with their little daggers hurt a hella lot more than anything she had come across recently, and she was mildly suspicious that they were poisonous.

"Is there a potion shop around here?" she asked.

Poppy glanced around. She knew she might lose a good night's pay if she deviated from her corner, especially since all her normal customers would be out and about because of Reaver's party, but she wanted to help the young warrior. She thought for a moment. "If ya continue this way," she pointed up the street," you'll find it, it's called 'Yer Health is Low'. Just look for the sign. I can't leave m' post, doll. I think you understand…"

Sparrow thanked her, gave her 10 gold coins, which Poppy happily took, and started to make her way to the shop. The streets were busy as the sun began to set, and the mass amount of people slowed her down. She managed to push through the crowd, getting only a few rather harsh words from some rather harsh looking men, but she made it to the shop as the door was beginning to close.

"Wait!" she chocked, "Please!" She waved her good arm over her head, gaining some strange looks from some people as they passed. The owner of the shop paused, his hand still on the door knob, as her frantic cries made their way to his ears. He looked out into the crowd, finally realizing who was trying to gain his attention as Sparrow collapsed on his doorstep.

"My, what do I have here?" he asked with a sly smile forming on his lips. He knelt down onto the balls of his feet, and rested his hands on his legs. "May I help you?" Sparrow looked up at him, her cheeks flush. A thin layer of sweat coated her face. Nausea rolled up into her throat and she quickly turned away from him to throw up on his step.

A look of disgust formed on his face as he stood up quickly and backed away from her. Sparrow finished up and wiped her mouth, her cheeks now a rosy red color from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry..." she pleaded, "Please help me. I think I've been poisoned..."

The alchemist looked down at her from over his nose and crossed his arms. "I've been invited to Reaver's party tonight, and you want me to miss it to help the likes of _you_?"

Though rather surprised by his lack of empathy, and a little annoyed at the fact that all these people seemed to care about was some stupid party by this Reaver fellow, Sparrow forced herself to stand up. "Fine," she hissed. She turned and began to walk down the steps. The alchemist's hand caught her arm and stopped her. She looked angrily over her shoulder at him.

"I will help you under one condition," he said. Sparrow eyed his devious expression, and she knew something was up. "If I heal you, then you will accompany me to Reaver's bash." His lips twisted up into an evil smile. "No gold, just you hanging off of me like I'm God's gift to women."

Sparrow pondered this for a moment. So this alchemist felt a little intimidated by Reaver and his hordes of female fans. A little sore spot on his ego, it seemed. Well now, it seemed she might be able to get in and see Reaver a lot sooner than she expected. And if he didn't know who she was, she could see if she truly did need this man to help her save the world. She would have plenty of time to watch him, see who he was and how he was. All in all, this wasn't that bad of a trade. An antidote of high enough caliber to counteract the poison of a banshee would cost a pretty penny, and she could get it by just going to a party and doing a little acting.

"Fine," she brushed his hand from her arm, "Deal."

The alchemist smiled again, and turned around to enter his shop. Sparrow turned towards him, but then glanced over her shoulder, out into the street. Large eyes looked back at her from the shadows of an ally next to her. She put her finger up to her lips and smiled.

She could see the eyes blink a few times and get closer to the ground. Out from the shadows slipped a paw, and the young warrior smiled to herself again. She would never find a person who would love her unconditionally, not in this world, but she would always have her best friend.

"You coming, or do you plan on dying in the street?" the potion master's voice cut into her thoughts. She looked back at him, and his eyes glowed with anticipation. He opened the door a little wider for her, and she walked into Your Health is Low as the sun's final rays slid beneath the horizon.

_**Please review! :D**_


	2. Lucky Girl

_**A/N: Oh, how I envy Sparrow. Getting to go to one of Reaver's parties is a dream come true for most of his fans. :) **_

_**I wanted there to be a slight build up before you even get to see Reaver, considering he is the pirate lord and all. And I wanted to use some of his witty lines. That *is* the reason I like him so much, after all.**_

_**On a side note, I hope to not disappoint you all with my ill sense of humor. :) Please bear with me, and I promise I won't use any cheesy puns.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fable 2.**_

_Chapter 2 : Lucky Girl_

"Well, you certainly are a lucky girl," the potion master said with a seedy laugh, "I don't know how you did it, but a man can barely stand the poison of a banshee, let alone a _girl._" He handed Sparrow a delicate looking vial with a foul smelling brew inside of it. She glanced inside and, to her dismay, found that it was the pleasant color of vomit.

"Bottoms up," he smirked.

_You can do this, _her mind chimed. _You battled your way through the Crucible and you weren't scared. You marched into that Spire without a lick of fear. _

She closed her eyes. _But I never had to drink anything as revolting as this Hobbe spittle, _she reasoned back.

_What are you? A Hero? Drink it, girl! _

Sparrow held her nose and took in a mouthful of the concoction.

It tasted...._wonderful_? Was her mind just playing tricks on her? _If so_, she thought with a little pride_, it was doing a _mighty_ fine job_. She hesitantly took another drink.

"Taste good?" the alchemist asked coolly. Sparrow eyed him suspiciously. She had expected something a little more...well…_medicine like_.

"Surprisingly, yes..." she responded.

"Ah, good. You never know how someone is going to react to banshee poison antidote," he took the vial away from her and placed it in a small sink in the back room they were in.

Sparrow reached up and touched her wounded arm. To her pleasant surprise she felt little pain. But...how peculiar it was that she could still feel her gash. Most healing potions, generally based off her experience, _healed_ the drinker.

"Oh I forgot to tell you!" she looked back at the potion master as he clasped his long bony fingers together and smiled at her evilly. "The antidote just rids you of your poison..."

She blinked at him in confusion. "What are you saying?" she asked.

He snickered. "To heal a banshee wound that is poisoned, you must first get rid of the poison, and then use a _very_ particular type of healing potion..." he paused for a moment, letting her look of confusion turn to annoyance, "But lucky for you, you're standing with the only man in Bloodstone that knows how to brew one."

"I should have known..." she murmured.

"I will gladly brew you up that potion _after_ the party. But _only_ if you do as I say."

---

Sparrow, Hero of Bowerstone, one of the most powerful warriors Ablion had ever seen, was embarrassingly latched onto the arm of one of the most egotistical, self absorbed man she had ever come in contact with. And she was in a _dress_. A dress! The girl who worked in the Spire for _ten_ (count'em!) _ten years_ was in some raunchy little piece of clothing all for what? A potion?

Bah! She was _shot _and then thrown out of a _bloody castle tower_ when she was a _child _and survived! Why in God's name did she need a potion for a _little _cut? What was she now? A pansy? A _girl_? A—

"Little professional lovin' for ya tonight, Eric?" a sweet voice broke into Sparrow's internal rant and brought her back to reality.

The alchemist snickered. "Not tonight, Claire," he said as him and Sparrow passed a whore on the corner as they made their way up to Bloodstone Manor. He jerked Sparrow closer to his side, bumping into her wounded arm.

The pain shot up and into her head, instantly giving her a pounding headache. She stifled a hiss and gritted her teeth. He could have at least helped her rewrap her bandages before this damned thing! She felt beads of sweat trickle down the back of her neck and down her exposed back.

She was wearing a darling dress that the potion master had, surprisingly and slightly disturbingly, in his closet. It was midnight black with a beautiful blood red sheen to it, long red elbow gloves, and fancy black heels that Poppy had handed over for a mere 50 gold. Her hair was wrapped tightly up and pinned to her head in some fancy style that she had never seen before.

"Don't you just look lovely," Eric whispered with a nasty smile. Sparrow gave him a warning glare, daring him to try any funny business on her. Her brilliant blue eyes turned icy, and he looked away with a sleazy grin stretched over his face.

"Eric!" a man shouted as the mismatched couple entered the beautifully decorated courtyard of the manor. He stood on the steps of the manor, ushering for Eric and his date to cut in front of the other party goers waiting in a long line.

"Who is that?" Sparrow heard as the potion master lead her up. "She looks so familiar!"

"Pro'lly one o' the new workin' girls," another whispered.

"Reaver ain't gonna like this."

"Pro'lly already had a go at her," one snickered. "She's jus' tryin to get back in ta see 'em."

"He's a amazin' lover, unlike you, ya dirty bastard."

"Glad to see ya, mate!" the man said as Eric and Sparrow approached him.

"Norman!" Eric exclaimed, and the men shook hands.

"You got business with Reavah tonight, I see," Norman said as he looked over the Heroine, eyeing her tight dress and heavy make-up. "He's in the back. Be out in a lil' bit, once the party heats up."

Eric thanked him, they shook hands again, and Sparrow was jerked inside. People were everywhere, sitting in every chair, leaning against all open spots of the walls, relaxing on the steps. There was hardly any room for the two to move around. Barely clad barmaids wondered around with large trays, offering drinks to the people when their glasses of booze were beginning to get dry.

"You know the deal," the potion master whispered harshly into her ear.

Suddenly the room got quiet, and everyone turned to the door leading into the back of the first floor. Sparrow stood up on her tip toes, trying to look over the shoulders and heads of those blocking her view. A few girls next to her started to whisper and giggle excitedly.

"Well, "came a smooth voice, "helloo there." Through the crowd the Heroine saw a flash of gold and red appear from behind the door. "Always a nice surprise to have company."


	3. The Pirate King

_**A/N: What is this? Chapter 3 so soon? When I'm on a roll, I'm on a roll. :) **_

_**Finally! We get to meet the Hero of Skill! And my, my, what a marvelous entrance! I love his clan of fan girls, which you will see much more of in following chapters.**_

_**I used a line from Of Bleeding Dreams's review that tickled my fancy: "If I was Sparrow I would've slap that pig's head of his shoulders!" :) I made me wonder what my evil Sparrow would have done in a situation like this... She would have done bad things, I tell you, bad things indeed.**_

_**Anyway, if you enjoy this story, do me a favor and review it! ;)**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fable 2.**_

_Chapter 3 : The Pirate King_

With the appearance of the host of the party, the room suddenly started to buzz with chatter. People were pushing forward, all trying to talk with this Reaver at once. It seemed as though everyone wanted a word with him, and to Sparrow's dismay, so did her date.

Eric yanked and pulled her through the crowd, shoving guests out of the way whenever they stepped in front of him. A few low curses sprang up, but no one bothered to stop him.

"Damn these people," the potion master hissed as he knocked into a barmaid, making her tray of crystal glasses almost slip from her hands.

"Sorry..!" Sparrow yelped as the woman gave them an evil look.

"Now, now," she suddenly heard, "There is enough of me to go around."

The Heroine looked forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the Hero of Skill. She was sure he wasn't _this _wonderful. The man was a pirate, after all! A dirty scoundrel! So he was good with a pistol, well so was she. Could sail a ship? Well, she was sure she could do that as well. Had a coastal island of pirates that envied and looked up to him? Well…maybe she didn't have that…

_Stop sizing yourself up to him,_ her mind scolded, _Theresa sent you here on a mission. This is nothing more than another Hero-fetching assignment that will be up and over within a matter of a few days. _

_Right, _she nodded. So what if she was being dragged into a mansion full of pirates and whores? She was a Hero! No, a _Heroine_. That's right. A female warrior! No pistol could whip her! No Hobbe or bandit or highwayman could take her down! And besides, all of them had guns too!

Sparrow suddenly bumped into Eric, face first. She stumbled backwards, bumping into another man. He caught her before she fell.

"Looky here, men!" she heard him laugh, "One o' Reveah's gals!" The group of men around her jeered, some of them whistling and grabbing for her. Some other people turned and looked around at them.

Eric snatched her wrist and yanked her forward. "She's _mine_," he snapped. The men quickly quieted.

"Yers?" one of them asked, a look of skepticism on his haggard, unshaven face. "This lil' numba is _yer _date?" The potion master gave her an evil glare.

"Uh…why yes, yes I am," Sparrow piped. She wrapped her arm around his, ignoring the pain it caused in her wound. Her eyes began to water, but she kept her stance.

The group of pirates chuckled. "Not fer long," one said. Sparrow looked up to Eric with a questioning glance. His face was red with anger. "Not when Reaveah sees 'er."

"At least I have a date," he said through gritted teeth. Suddenly his face changed. It smoothed over into a peaceful and rather smug smile. "And a female one at that." The alchemist brushed her hands off his arm and stepped behind her. He put his cold hands on her bare shoulders. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Look at her—" he ran his hands down her arms and to her hips, making Sparrow cringe "—wouldn't you like to have a roll in the hay with this?"

They watched him carefully, the pirates' eyes suddenly lighting up with fervor and envy. Sparrow's face flushed hotly, both with rage and embarrassment. If she didn't need that damn potion she would have slapped the heads off all of these pigs! She'd kill them! _Kill them 'till they're dead!! _

"My, my, what is this?" cooed a voice.

Eric spun around, taking Sparrow with him. The room grew rather quiet. A circle formed around them.

"Evening," the potion master replied coolly.

Reaver stood before them, a goblet of wine in his hand. He was clad in dark red and gold, looking absolutely dashing compared to all the party guests around him. He towered over Sparrow, and even over Eric. A group of women stood behind him, a look a disgust written all over their faces as they took in the sight of the Heroine and her date.

The Hero of Skill looked her up and down, and a handsome smile appeared on his attractive face. "What a lovely date you have, Eric," he said. Sparrow was lost for words. _This _was _Reaver_? This man?

Eric smiled smugly. "Isn't she?" he asked.

"If you don't mind, I think I might take her away from you," Reaver reached out and took Sparrow's hand. The room hushed.

"_Off!_" the alchemist snapped. He grabbed Sparrow by her arms, his hand digging into her covered up wound, and yanked her away. She let out a yelp as he threw her to the side.

A few women gasped, and when the Hero of Bowerstone looked back up at Eric, Reaver had his pistol pointed straight at his forehead. "I don't get many visitors to my little coastal paradise," he said with a touch of malice in his voice, "She must be looking for _someone_, and who else could it be but _me_? I highly doubt she came here to see _you_." The color drained from the alchemist's face.

_You need him to brew that potion,_ her mind yelled, _stop him! _

"Wait!" she yelped half heartily. She hesitated. What was she going to say now? "He…uh…Eric is an old friend of mine…and…"

"Oh come, come," the Hero of Skill cooed, "A gorgeous lady like yourself is here for _him?_" He laughed softly, "I can surely give you _whatever—_"his green eyes flashed,"—he is promising you to escort him here tonight."

Sparrow again hesitated. Could he really get her that potion? She reached up and touched her wound. The pain shocked her and she withdrew her fingers.

Reaver eyed her carefully. "I see," he said. He looked back at Eric and gave him a dashing grin. "No need for you anymore, it seems."

A shot rang out and blood and gore splattered onto a rather expensive carpet on the floor. Eric buckled and then collapsed under his own weight into a heap. Reaver pulled his pistol up to his mouth and blew away the black smoke that was gently swirling up into the air.

_**A/N: Sorry about the rather short chapter. I cut off the original ending, which will begin Chapter 4. **_


	4. Backed into a Corner

_**A/N: Longest chapter yet! I had a fun time writing this, especially the last part. What a snobby prick, that Thief is. I hope I'm keeping him in character for all of you. I try to imagine his actual voice when I'm reading his lines, so maybe that will help if you just can't get him to sound like the old Reaver we all love. **_

_**To clear up any confusion, when Sparrow thinks "oh sweet William", she is referring to William Black, the first Archon (king) of Albion, who was later known as Scythe. Kinda like "oh sweet Jesus", I suppose. I got this info from Fable II: Tales of Albion, a mini website attached to the official website for Fable II over at Lionhead Studio's main website. **_

_**R&R is much appreciated. Not necessary, but I really like getting all excited when I see an email from in my inbox. :)**_

_Chapter 4 : Backed into a Corner_

Sparrow couldn't believe her eyes. She stared at the heap that was the potion master, shock clearly registered on her face. _Oh sweet William_, she thought, _this might turn into trouble…_

The crowd was silent and still. Slowly, people began to whisper, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. She looked up to Reaver, who was standing smugly with his pistol now secured in its holster on his hip. Some of the girls from the group that was previously behind him were crowded around him, praising him, cooing at him softly, batting their long lashes, and touching him gently.

"That was _wonderful_," one purred next to him. He gave her a charming smile that made all the girls around him sway.

Sparrow felt like she was in her own little world. All around her she could faintly hear the party guests whispering about Eric, none of them giving her even a second thought. Oh, how he had deserved to be shot, they murmured. It was an honor to be killed by Reaver, the said. Reaver should have killed him ages ago, they sighed. The Heroine wasn't necessarily shocked by their attitude, but the fact of the matter was that a man was just shot in the bloody head in the middle of a party! Were they just going to _leave_ him there?

A touch on her elbow caught her attention. She looked up and was surprised to see Reaver before her. His group of fan girls were behind him again, all up in a huff over being ignored once more. His dark eyes peered down at her, and she sensed that there was something hidden behind them. And whatever that something was, it was making her feel rather uneasy.

"Come with me," he murmured, and he led her through the crowd and into the back room. The party goers watched them suspiciously until the pirate king closed the heavy wooden door behind him.

"Now that we are alone," he said with a mischievous grin, "Why don't you tell me why you came to _my _party with Eric." He paused, running his eyes over her full figure, "And why you showed up with anyone at all, for that matter."

Sparrow hesitated. She suddenly felt vulnerable standing with him in her little dress. It was an odd feeling, particularly because she hadn't felt this way since the night that Rose was killed. She felt like a child again, stuck in a private study with a very important man. Though she doubted Reaver would throw her out the window, she didn't put it past him to shot her point blank.

The fireplace crackled and popped behind her, and even though it made the room warm and inviting, she still felt chills roll up and down her body. The room was uncomfortably quiet, albeit the muffled voices of the party quests outside it. She had never, in all her years of fighting and killing, wanted to run away as bad she did now.

"Not going to talk, are you?" the Thief asked. He ran his gloved hand through his perfect hair, a look of slight frustration on his fine-looking face. Sparrow remained quiet. What was she supposed to do? She certainly hadn't thought this far ahead, and she definitely didn't expect Reaver to get her alone.

"You didn't think anyone could escape Lucian's Spire and prance around my kingdom unnoticed, did you?" he finally asked. Sparrow was taken back. How did he know it was her? She changed her hair and covered her scars with make up. She didn't have her brilliant blue Will scars either, not since that last unfortunate incident with Granny Miggins and her (ahem) late grandson. She was certain she looked like a completely different woman! She was even wearing a dress! She's only wore a dress _once _in her life!

An amused look appeared on Reaver's face as he took in her startled expression. He laughed lightly, and walked around her to the fireplace. A small table with a bottle of wine sat glimmering in the firelight, accompanied by two crystal goblets. He uncorked the bottle and began to pour the crimson liquid into the cups. "Care for a drink, Sparrow?" he asked as he finished up. She shook her head, making the pirate king's smile falter slightly.

"I don't drink," she replied.

"What a shame," he took a sip of his drink, "I even got out my best crystal for you."

"You…were…expecting me?" she asked uncertainly.

"Oh yes. I even know _why _you're here. No doubt you've heard of my _astonishing_ abilities and expect me to join you in some half-cocked mission to take Lucien down."

Well, so much for being incognito. "That's the jist of it, I suppose…" she said with a nervous sigh.

Reaver laughed softly, and took another drink from his goblet. There was a long pause. "How am I doing so far?" he asked darkly, a glimmer of aggressive pleasure in his dark eyes. Before she could speak, he continued, "But here's the problem: you've done all sorts of _impressive_ things, but you haven't really done anything that benefits _me_."

"_You_?" she blurted out. The pirate king chuckled, placed his drink onto the table and advanced towards her. Sparrow started to back away, trying to keep the distance between them. "Wait! Hold on!" she said quickly, a strange panic beginning to swell up inside of her, but he kept towards her. "I, uh, I don't need you to help us!"

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes! You can go back to your party and, um, I'll just turn around and go back to Bowerstone and you'll never know I was here and—"she hushed as he backed her up against the door.

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to leave now that you just got here," he murmured as he placed both hands against the wood on either side of her face. He gave her a devilish grin and, to her astonishment, her knees went suddenly weak. This panicky feeling inside of her dumbfounded her. It was unlike anything she had felt before. In fact, she wasn't even sure if it _was _panic.

"Oi! Reavah!" someone yelled through the door. It startled Sparrow so much she jumped right into the Hero of Skill, almost knocking both of them down. The man with the voice pounded on the wood, "Reavah! You best be getting' out here!" he bellowed, "Yous girls are here!"

"How unfortunate," Sparrow heard Reaver whisper into her ear. Suddenly she realized that she was standing in his arms, his handsome face uncomfortably close to hers. She whipped around, panic stricken, and shoved herself out of his grasp. She stumbled away from him and rammed right into a bookcase. A few books slid off their respective shelves and fell down upon her, one smacking her in her bad arm. She let out a painful cry and grasped her wound.

"Reavah…?" the man outside yelled. The door creaked open slightly, and an eye peered into the room. Sparrow fell to her knees, clutching her arm as tears rolled down her face. The pain was unbearably severe, even for her.

_Damn this place to hell! _She yanked her glove off and threw it to the side. What she saw made her gasp. The wound on her arm had double in size, and small vein-like cracks were sprouting from it. They wrapped around her arm all the way down to her wrist.

"My, my," Reaver whispered, walking casually over to her and squatting down. "Had some business with a banshee, did you?" He went to reach for her arm, but she smacked his hand away. He chuckled. "Norman," he called. The man opened the door wider and hurried inside.

"Yes, Reavah?" he asked nervously. Some party guests began to pile near the doorway, trying to catch a glimse of what was going on.

"Send in Mary, will you?"

"Righ' away, sir," Norman scurried out of the room and pushed through the crowd of onlookers.

"So _this_ is why you brought that filthy alchemist with you," Reaver said with disgust as he eyed Sparrow's arm. "I assumed a celebrity of your stature would seek _me _out before coming to _my_ party with someone like _him_," he paused, "You don't know how much that hurt my feelings," he said with a touch of displeasure in his voice.

"Why in bloody hell did you kill him?!" Sparrow spat furiously through her tears.

"I couldn't have him bringing such a fine woman as yourself to _my _party now could I?"

Wait. Sparrow stared up at him as she suddenly remembered something…

_Reaver eyed her carefully. "I see," he said. He looked back at Eric and gave him a dashing grin. "No need for you anymore, it seems." _

"You _knew_…" she hissed. The Hero of Skill grinned darkly at her, showing his perfect teeth.

"Mary is here, Reavah," Norman piped up from behind. A dirty young woman appeared from behind him, dressed in rags with long greasy hair.

"'Ello, sire" she said as she curtsied.

Reaver stood up and turned to her. "Ah, Mary, my love," her face flushed with pleasure, "Will you please fetch me that item over there on the table?" He indicated to a large table in the corner of the room. She pranced over to it, picked it up, and pranced back. Reaver turned from her and knelt back down to where Sparrow was.

"This is a certain item that I need returned to its rightful owners in Wraithmarsh," he cooed. She glared daggers at him. "They live in an enchanting place called the Shadow Court. So how about this: you run this little errand for me and I will assist you in your quest for vengeance, or…or riches…" he paused and looked at her arm, "…or whatever it is that floats your _particular_ boat."


	5. The Dark Seal

_**A/N: What is this I spy? Is this…**_**a new chapter**_**!? **_

_**Why yes, yes it is! After just about five months of hiatus I have returned to FF bearing gifts to all my readers and reviewers! I apologize, I've been very busy with school and work and moving and *ahem* video games. I've read all of your reviews and I greatly appreciate all the kindness you all have shown me. :) In fact, if it wasn't for you guys letting me know that you enjoyed my previous chapters, I would have never continued. **_

_**Anyway, let's get down to business. I spent a very long time on this chapter. I know it's a lot different than the previous chapters, free of fluff and weak knees and, unfortunately, Reaver, but I think you all will enjoy it. My goal was to make it feel as if you were standing there watching Sparrow and Mary find out about some of the secrets of the dark seal.**_

_**Please R&R!**_

_Chapter Five : The Dark Seal_

Dawn broke silently over Bloodstone, the early morning sun slowly evaporating the dense fog that had settled around the docks over night. Sparrow could hear the sound of the waves smacking against the harbored ships and the gulls sounding off lazily above her. It probably would have been a rather nice morning under any other circumstance: quiet and serene, the salty sea air rolling coolly off the ocean, no clouds in the endless blue sky…

But, on this _particular_ morning, the Heroine of Bowerstone was in a _particularly_ sour mood. Of course, she had every reason to be so. It's not every morning that she, with a nasty flesh eating sore on her arm, gets to escort the local rift raft of a pirate town into the depths of a miserable swamp to a deserted, ghastly little village.

_That_ _pirate scum-bag is going to pay for this_, she thought harshly. Oh yes…he was going to pay severely and painfully. It was going to be the most excruciating and brutal punishment that the most benevolent and kind being of Albion could possibly muster! Which was pretty bad, if she did say so herself. She wasn't a Temple of Light monk, now was she? Oh the wraith she was going to unleash—

"Ma'am?" Mary squeaked, breaking the silence. Sparrow, slightly startled by the interruption of her plans of sweet vengeance, looked over at her dirty, sunken face. The girl looked down at her hands. They held tightly onto the seal that Reaver had given them, the edges cutting into her sun baked skin. "This court place that Reavah is sendin' us too…how far away is it?"

Sparrow looked back to the stone steps that they were beginning to climb. Her heels clicked softly as they ascended, with Mary's feet slapping the stone quietly behind her. Truth be told, Wraithmarsh was a very long way from Bloodstone. It had taken her…well…

"Several days," the Heroine responded. She looked back over her shoulder to Mary. The girl was looking out into the waterfront, watching waves roll into the docks and crash into the harbor. All of the sudden, the morning didn't seem so serene anymore. In fact, it felt as if they were saying goodbye to some old friends.

_How peculiar_, she thought and she turned to look back to the path in front of them. The two climbed silently up the steps and rounded the bend up top. Sparrow was again deep in thought about how the best way to torture a greedy pirate when she noticed that her companion's footsteps weren't behind her. She stopped and turned back, opening her mouth to tell the girl to get a move on, but no words came out.

Mary was standing at the end of the path facing her, mucky tears streaming down her face and falling onto her hands. Blood was rolling down her wrists, the seal biting into the skin, cutting it, hissing slightly as the crimson liquid soaked into it.

"I can't do this," she murmured. She turned away and stepped through the broken fence that surrounded the edge of the cliff.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Sparrow asked. She started towards Mary, panic beginning to swell up inside of her. The girl ignored her and began to sob loudly, clutching the seal to her chest. Sparrow could hear her talking through her tears, murmuring things that she couldn't understand.

"Mary!" she yelled, panic-stricken. The pain in her arm that she had been trying to drown out with thoughts of gore and torture all morning suddenly burst to the front of her mind. Her eyes watered, but she wasn't sure if it was from the unbearable pain or from the salty air smacking her face as she broke into a run. Mary was at the edge of the cliff, looking out into the sea, her grubby toes hanging off the side. Her sobs were turning hysterical and manic.

"I can't do this!" the girl wailed, and she opened her arms, one hand clutching the loudly hissing seal, and leaned forward and—

Sparrow snatched the back of her shirt and yanked her back, literally throwing the bawling young woman back onto the stone path. The Heroine of Bowerstone whipped around and marched back to her as she curled up into a ball on the ground, grasping the seal tightly in her arms.

This wasn't going to do. Not at all.

Sparrow reached down, ignoring the searing pain in her arm, and wrenched Mary's arms apart. The girl looked up at her in surprise, dirt and tears smudged on her face. Sparrow reached down to yank the seal out of her arms, but was knocked back as Mary started to scream and thrash around violently. The seal was hissing and vibrating, it's edges cutting deeper and deeper into her skin. Blood was staining the front of her gritty clothes, and Sparrow was beginning to get aggravated.

"This—" she growled, fighting to keep Mary's feet from kicking her in the head, "is—_enough_!" She grabbed the seal, its hiss turned to a high pitched whine, and yanked it from the girl's hands. Mary instantaneously stopped, her body suddenly going limp and quiet. Sparrow stood up, the only sound she could hear was the seal whining loudly, and threw it to the ground. The insufferable sound immediately began to sputter and die out, letting the sound of the ocean and the gulls gathering overhead gradually come back to Sparrow's ears. Mary was passed out in a rather awkward position in front of her, her front splattered with blood and dirt and tears.

"Well…" she whispered to herself as she bent down and rested on the balls of her feet, "That was rather interesting…" She looked over at the dark seal lying in the dirt, the edges glinting off the warm rays of the sun.

Mary stirred in front of her, a low moan catching Sparrow's ears and bringing her attention back. She opened her eyes and drearily sat up. "What…" she stopped, catching a look at her bloodied hands. Before she could let out a terrified scream, Sparrow reached down and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"You're alright," she said. She reached around and took her pack off her side, unbuttoned the top, and began to rummage around inside. After a few moments she took out a squat little vial and held it out in front of Mary, who had tears running down her face again. "This is a java potion. Drink it quickly."

Mary stared at it for a moment, then looked back down at her hands. Blood was still oozing out of the gashes. She looked back at the brown little container. "Wha—"

"Drink," Sparrow interrupted. The girl reached up and took it, took off the top, and took a gulp. The slashes in her hands began to form back together until nothing was left but some faint little scars. She handed the vial back to Sparrow, who placed it back in her inventory. "I think it would be best if I held onto Reaver's seal," she said as she stood up and put her hand out to Mary. The girl grasped it and the Heroine of Bowerstone pulled her up.

"Wha' happened?" she asked. She had the look of someone who had just woken up from a rather bad dream.

"I don't know," Sparrow muttered. She finally felt the rapid beating of her heart beginning to calm down. Her arm was throbbing, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. What had Reaver given this poor girl? She glanced over at Mary and stifled a gasp. She apparently was too worried about keeping her from jumping off a cliff and falling to her watery death (and herself from being whacked in the face by her soiled feet) to have noticed that the girl had turned from being around of age of 17 to about 40 all in the matter of a few minutes.

She looked over to the dark seal. What was this thing? It had to be something from the Old Kingdom. But who would make a seal to a door that drained your youth? What was the point of that? And what in the hell was Reaver doing with it?

A thought dawned on Sparrow. "Mary…" she asked as she turned to look at her. "How old is Reaver?"

Mary pondered this for a moment. "I dunno," she responded, "Thirty?"

"Hmm…" the adventurer looked away from her. "I doubt that…" She walked over and picked up the seal. The steel around the edge bit into her skin, like the cold does when you walk outside on a winters day, and a wave of complete and total dread washed over her. The warm light from the rising sun turned cold and dim. The gulls screeched above her, mocking her, making fun of her. The wind was harsh and cold against her face.

Why was she doing this? Wasting her time. That's all. Nothing but a waste. Lucien was going to kill her, Mary, Theresa, Hammer, all the innocent people in Albion. And what did it matter if Reaver came? He was just a pompous ass who didn't care about anything. And what of Avo? Oh Avo…her companion, her best friend. He was no where to be seen. He abandoned her…

She was alone. All alone in this world of Hobbes and banshees. No one was going to save Albion. Especially not her. No. She was far too weak. Too feeble. She was nothing but a twenty eight year old childless bitch who was too stuck up her own ass. If she had been a _real _Hero she wouldn't have even been in this dire circumstance to begin with. Her scared and worthless child self would have saved Rose and…and…

"_You're nothing but rubbish, little Sparrow…" _a voice sneered in her head, "_Stupid girl...my death is all your fault…if you would have never came along…Mum and Dad wouldn't have had that accident…and—"_

A warm sensation covered her hand and Sparrow floated dreamily out of her thoughts. She rolled her head and looked down. A large set of blue eyes looked back up at her. And they were so _bright_.

"Rose…?" she murmured, her brow bunching together in confusion.

"Hero?" another voice called. "Why name yer pooch a girly name when he's a boy?"

"My dog?" she asked. Why, she didn't have a dog. Why would she be allowed one? She couldn't take care of it. The thing would only die in her care.

"Yea…" the voice said uncertainly. A humming sound began to creep up and into her head, drowning out the screaming in her ears that had never really noticed before. And why were her hands so warm? It was odd…they were covered in warmth, yet a piercing cold ran along the inside of her palm. It was so strange.

_Thud!_

Sparrow snapped back into reality and all of Bloodstone crashed down onto her. The sounds, the smells, the light, all came flooding back and hitting her with such force that she was swept off her feet and landed rather painfully on her back.

"Oh!" squealed Mary, her face suddenly appearing above Sparrow's, blocking out the sun that was still rising in the sky. "You alright?" Sparrow gazed up at her. Mary turned away and looked to her side. "Good doggie!"

Doggie?

Sparrow sat up. A golden coated dog was sitting a few feet away from her, his tail wagging back and forth at the sight of her acknowledging him. He barked happily and jumped to his feet, his tail whipping back and forth with such fervor that his entire back end started to shake.

"He jumped on ya," Mary said as the dog walked over to Sparrow and licked her face. "You were cryin' and whisperin' and yer hands started bleedin'. You dropped that." She pointed over into the grass on the opposite side of the Hero.

The dark seal was lying silently beside her.


	6. The Shadow Court Pt 1

_**A/N: Is this…an update? Why yes, yes it is! **_

_**This is the first part of the Shadow Court. I won't go about spoiling it, but I do want you guys to know that I wrote this over a year ago. I honestly thought I had uploaded it – but I obviously thought wrong! Good news though is that I already have part 2 complete. So, be nice to me and R&R! I read them all and I greatly appreciate every single one.**_

_Chapter 6: The Shadow Court Part 1_

Travelling back into Wraithmarsh was just as bad as it had been the first time the Hero of Bowerstone trekked through it. It was gloomy and foggy and dark. Not to mention that she was escorting Mary, who she found out a little while later while they were running frantically away from a horde of banshee children, was an exceptionally fast sprinter when her life was in danger. And she swore that the next time she saw a hollow man she was going to tear him from limb to limb, light his body on fire, and burn down the entire marsh.

Eventually the pair reached the Shadow Court in the middle of Oakvale. The long, dark building gave off an ominous aura that sent chills up and down Sparrow's spine. It was like holding onto the dark seal in a way: a feeling of dread washed over her as she walked up to the path. Yet, she wasn't sure if it was because she was getting ready to enter a scary, foreboding building in a creepy bog or the fact that she was getting ready to enter a scary, foreboding building in a creepy bog with a seal that sucked the happiness and youth out of all who touched it that frightened her more.

It really was a no win situation, in her humble opinion. She and Mary had had a hard enough time picking the seal up with a stick in Bloodstone and stuffing it into her sack. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to manage to place the seal in the lock in front of her.

The two stood at the beginning of the path for what seemed like hours, pondering whether or not one of them should try to take hold of the seal again. The terrible searing pain in the warrior's arm had her seriously considering the pros and cons when the fog around them suddenly got noticeably thicker.

Adrenaline flooded Sparrow's body. She had been dreading this for days now. The run in with the banshee offspring had nearly given her a heart attack, but no banshee had appeared then. It was unusual, but terribly fortunate at the time.

A scream erupted out of nowhere, signaling that this time they weren't so lucky. Sparrow snatched Mary's arm, yelled for her to look straight ahead, and they sprinted up the path to the dark building. The Heroine of Bowerstone reached into her bag, felt the icy aura of the dark seal, and gripped onto it tightly.

That same feeling of hopelessness washed over her, but the slamming of her heart and the flood of adrenaline in her blood kept her senses crisp and clear. She shoved the seal into it's place and the doors immediately began to pop and crackle as the seal worked it's magic. The seal suddenly popped out of the lock, almost falling to the ground before Sparrow fumbled and caught it, and the doors swung open.

The pair dashed inside, Avo trailing them closely, and then heaved the doors shut just as the banshee and her children reached them. They shrieked at them through the doors, and Sparrow could make out the sound of them clawing viciously at the wood.

"You know," she said to Mary as they both turned away from the doors, "Albion is a very dangerous place outside of the cities." Mary laughed nervously and nodded, and the two began their walk into the Shadow Court. The young Hero placed the dark seal back into her bag, noting that it seemed as though the feeling of trepidation didn't affect her nearly as bad as before once the seal had opened the door.

They walked in silence, Mary shaking slightly and Sparrow gripping her aching, burning arm. The pain had stayed at a consistent level for about three days, and it was beginning to take a burden on her. She had managed to stay true to her vowel to Granny Miggins and hadn't used any of her Will magic, though it would have been very useful when they were being swarmed by hollow men as soon as they stepped into Wraithmarsh. She had used her pistol, albeit rather awkwardly in her non dominant hand, and both of them had managed to struggle, run, and fight through the marsh.

Well, Sparrow did most of the fighting while Mary did most of the running. But, really, it had worked out pretty well for the both of them. Though, after about the fourth day of their journey, it had occurred to the young warrior that Mary really was of no use to her. She pondered, why had Reaver sent the girl with her? Was he trying to make it more difficult of a trip? She would think he would send a warrior with her, perhaps someone who could hold their own (just sayin'), if he really needed the seal given back to whoever haunted this ghastly place. That made more sense, after all.

_He's just playing with you, Hero,_ her mind whispered; _He might have just sent you on a wild goose hunt for kicks and giggles. But we need that healing potion, so let's just get a move on and get out of here._

Right. Time to focus.

"Mary, where do you…suppose…" Sparrow paused. Mary wasn't beside her anymore. She jumped back and looked around. "Mary? Mary! Girl, what did I tell you about wondering off?!"

Circumstances like this were why Heroes should enter tombs and crypts and bogs alone.

Only her voice echoed back to her. Avo stood next to her, looking around alertly. Sparrow let out a frustrated sigh and looked down at her pet. Avo looked back up at her with bright blue eyes, as if he were waiting on her to tell him something.

"Listen boy," she said as she knelt down and patted him on the head, "Go and look for Mary—" he wagged his tail slowly "—I'm going to take this seal further into the tomb. " She stood up and he bound back down the path from which they had just came. Smart dog, he was. Smarter than most of the people of modern Albion.

Sparrow looked down her dim path, pulled her pistol from its holster on her hip, and began to walk slowing into the darkness.


	7. The Shadow Court Pt 2

_**A/N: Hello all! Can you believe it's been 4 years since the start of this story and we are only to chapter 7? I know, I know, it's mighty crazy. However, here is yet another chapter for you to enjoy! It's longer than the other chapters, and it follows the Shadow Court again. Of course, there are differences in this version than in the game, but I think you will enjoy it. **_

_**As always, please read and review! **_

_**Fun note: Reaver's Party has over 10k views! Thanks everyone!**_

_Chapter 7: The Shadow Court Part 2_

Sparrow walked slowly through the dark, fallen down corridors of the Shadow Court. Old, burnt down torches threw her shadow onto the crumbling walls. The musty smell of soil and rot caused her to scrunch her nose up. It was hauntingly silent, except for the crunch of Sparrow's boots as she stepped through the disintegrating remains of the floor.

She wasn't quite sure how long she walked before she began to hear something. At first she was positive the silence was just bearing down on her too much and she was hearing things. But after several minutes of walking, she was certain that she wasn't going crazy. She could hear very faint sobbing far off down the dark, descending hallway.

She paused for moment, contemplating on what she should do. Avo hadn't returned with Mary, and she wasn't sure how far into the Shadow Court she had gone. If she went after whoever was crying, could they catch up with her?

She smiled. Who was she kidding? This was Avo she was thinking of!

She took in a deep breath and then started to run.

The torches lit her way enough that she was able to hurdle over broken pillars and avoid holes in the floor as she sprinted deeper and deeper into the Court. The sobbing was becoming increasingly louder as she progressed, leading her down the correct junctions when she managed to come across one. After several minutes, she ran through a doorway that had been crisscrossed with thin, invisible spider webs and jolted to a stop.

"Ugh!" she moaned as she tried to wipe the thin threads off herself. A creepy crackle right beside her caused her to jump back, startled. A Hobbe stood a foot away from her, brandishing a large mallet. He threw his head back and –

A loud bang echoed through the corridor and the Hobbe flew back onto his back, his leg twitching. Thin lines of smoke swirled up into the air from the end of Sparrow's gun. A sparkle of metal caught her eye and another shot rang out. The metal crusted handle of an axe spun out from the shadows on the floor to her feet, and a sickening gurgle bubbled up from another Hobbe as he slumped over in the shadows.

She aimed into the dark corners of the room and waited. Three Hobbes hobbled out towards her, their thick arms shaking as they held them up in surrender. She laughed softly – like she was going to fall for that trick – and shot three lightening quick shots. They all fell backwards in succession.

Sparrow looked at her handy work and smiled smugly. Not too bad for using her left hand, if she did say so herself. She stepped over the Hobbes and continued through another doorway. Again she picked up the pace and started running. The sobs continued to grow louder.

After a few minutes a surprisingly different hallway caused her to pause. The floor wasn't as torn down as the rest of the hallways she had been down, and old rusted chandeliers hung from the ceilings instead of torches on the walls. She eyed the floor for a moment and took a tentative step out onto it. A clicking sound made her spring back and giant rusted spikes shot up through holes she had mistaken as a pattern on the ground.

"Damn!" she hissed as the spikes shuttered and sank back into their holes. She looked down the hallway and saw an old weathered and vine covered treasure chest, enticing her forward. She thought about her promise to Granny Miggins and her personal ban on using magic, and sighed sadly. A good time control spell would make this very easy, but was that worth breaking a promise to herself and that sweet old lady?

Not really. But… she looked at the smooth rock wall and the dilapidated chandeliers. There really was no way forward – she couldn't keep her footing on the walls and she was fairly certain the chandeliers would fall if she tried to swing on them.

The sobbing off on the distance had grown so loud that she was sure she was about to reach whoever needed saving. With a heavy sigh, she held her hands up and muttered a jumble of ancient words. They were surprisingly easy to recall, despite her lack of magic wielding over the past several months. A tingling sensation began in her palms and grew stronger as she concentrated. As soon as her hands began to shake, she sucked in a lungful of air and threw her hands to the ground.

Time slowing down around her made her feel uncomfortable. And she immediately felt regret bubble in her stomach as Granny Miggin's face flickered in front of her eyes as she sprinted across the spike pit. As soon as she reached safety, time caught up. She threw open the chest, gathered a few minor healing potions – these chests were the most convenient things, she had always wondered who had laid them out and why they never seemed to be opened by anyone – and continued on.

She entered a large room with stalagmites growing from the high ceiling. She knew rooms like this, they were in every crypt and dungeon she had ever explored. But this one felt very…off. The room was suddenly noticeably chilly. Adrenaline rippled down her back.

The sobbing continued nonstop as she slowly advanced into the middle of the room, careful to step over fallen debris and rubble. The darkness swelled up around her, pressing against her in an unnatural way. The sharp sputtering of metal behind her caused her to snap her head back. An old iron gate had came down in the doorway, blocking her path to retreat.

Sweat beaded on her neck as she looked back into the corridor. Her arm ached. Her fingers twitched. She silently wished that she hadn't sent Avo off by himself. The sobbing echoed around her.

Slowly, she tip toed through the corridor, being very careful to breathe steadily and silently. The unnatural darkness was making her extremely uneasy. She almost wished she was in a room full of hollow men just so she could get this over with.

Suddenly dark shadows swirled all around her like smoke, and figures jumped out at her. She gasped and pulled her pistol out. They danced around her, and she noticed they resembled old enemies she had encountered. There were Hobbes laughing at her and Balvarines with ghastly eyes slowly circling her.

Her fear vanished. Shadow enemies? In the Shadow Court? She should have guessed. She shook her head to herself and almost laughed. Here she was thinking she was going to have to fight a super zombie banshee and hordes of her offspring with how ominous the entire dungeon had been.

"Shall we?" she asked the nearest Hobbe, who glared at her silently.

With a burst of fire and several well aimed shots, the fight was over in a matter of 45 seconds.

The room's heavy atmosphere lightened significantly as she shoved her gun back into her hip holster and ran through the room. She passed through another doorway and into another corridor. Ahead of her she saw a wall and no exits. She slowed down and stopped near the end, and then caught herself before she took a step.

A giant hole was in the ground in front of her. She could hear the sobs coming from inside of it. Sparrow edged to the pit and peered down inside. She could barely make out the floor. The creepiness of the Court became apparent to her again. There was clearly more.

Carefully, she hopped down the pit and landed swiftly and silently on the floor.

This hallway was much darker than the rest of the Shadow Court. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Ahead of her she saw another large room with some light emanating from it. And what were those off in the distance? Were those… thrones? She creped forward silently. The sobs were loud here.

As she neared the mouth of the large room, she noticed a figure on the ground, facing the wide expanse and the thrones off in the center of the room. A large dark pit lay between the ledge the crying figure was on and three shimmering thrones on a giant pedestal. Sparrow was very hesitant. The woman in front of her continued to cry miserably, not taking any notice to her at all.

Then something brushed her leg and Sparrow threw herself into the wall in a panic. Avo looked up at her, clearly confused.

"Avo!" she gasped in relief. He tilted his head to the side and waged his tail happily. Sparrow paused and then whipped her head around. The figure in front of her was dressed in a very familiar set of grubby, dirty clothes. And now that she listened, her cries seemed familiar.

"Mary…" she whispered. The girl suddenly stopped and slowly turned to face her. Her wet cheeks glistened in the firelight and her eyes were red and puffy.

"Sparrow?" she squeaked. The Hero of Bowerstone jumped up and ran to her. Mary reached up to her and hugged her tightly, shuddering with sobs again. Sparrow winced as she squeezed her, putting pressure on her aching arm.

"What happened?" she asked quietly. Mary sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears away and smearing her face with dirt.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking very confused and terrified. "I'm so scared. I… I just want to go home." Sparrow opened her mouth to respond when something caught Mary's eye and she looked over at the thrones. Suddenly she squealed and grabbed Sparrow so tight she cringed.

Across the pit three ghastly beings in black robes appeared, sitting on the glimmering thrones. Sparrow squinted and her stomach dropped. Skeletons made up the thrones, their bleached bones glimmering in the candles that surrounded them.

"Welcome," one of the figures said, his voice deep and throaty.

"Welcome," another murmured.

"Welcome," the last said and he shifted in his throne.

"One of you carries the Dark Seal," the middle figured said darkly. Sparrow became acutely aware of the seal in her pack on her hip.

"But there are two… Only one is required…" another muttered.

"One will trade their youth and beauty so that the King of Thieves may retain his," the last one said loudly. Mary clutched Sparrow tighter, her fingers digging into her bad arm. Sparrow stifled a hiss, trying to concentrate on the robbed beings.

_King of Thieves? _her mind murmured, _They must mean that no good pirate… Oh the pain I am going to reign down on him…_

Fury flamed up in Sparrow's stomach.

"This is the bargain we honor. The rules cannot be broken. We will take whoever bears the Dark Seal. You must choose, quickly."

Sparrow stared at them for a moment, and then looked down at Mary. She looked up at her terrified, tears spilling down her face. "Please…" she whimpered, "I just want to see my parents again…"

Sparrow could feel the seal begin to vibrate. Mary felt it too, and she looked down at the pack. Her hands began to tremble and she began to sob again. Rage was burning a hole in Sparrow's gut – why hadn't that bastard came here himself? Did he think this was some type of sick joke, trying to make her make a decision like this?! Sparrow couldn't even speak she was so angry. Heroes weren't supposed to act this way… this was…this was unforgivable…

"What!?" Mary shrieked, catching Sparrow off guard. "No… You… you can't do this! Please…! Don't…please…" Smoke swirled around her, and for a moment Sparrow's vision was blocked. Mary was shrieking and crying, and her hands were wildly shaking.

Suddenly, the girl stopped and her hands slid from the Hero of Bowerstone. Sparrow frantically reached out to her through the smoke, desperately searching. What was going on!?

A new voice caused her to stop searching.

"What…What's happened to me…?" It sounded like Granny Miggins. The smoke began to clear and in front of Sparrow sat a little old lady. Sparrow stared at her. She was wearing ragged old clothes, and her grey hair hung down to her shoulders. The lady was staring at her hands. "No!" she shrieked, her voice breaking.

The lady looked up at Sparrow, and instinctively the Hero of Bowerstone flinched. The woman's eyes were ghastly, glowing with a cold light. Her look was devastating, a look of complete and utter heart break mixed with anguish.

"Reaver has again fulfilled the bargain," one of the Shadow Judges roared from across the pit, where they had silently witnessed Mary's transformation. Sparrow couldn't take her eyes off of Mary, who placed her face in her hands and began to sob again. "But when the sacrifices stop, we will come for him. This he knows…"

Sparrow glanced over at the thrones. The Shadow Judges had vanished, leaving their skeletal thrones shimmering coldly in the candle light.


End file.
